


(Un)even footing

by Bohemian (Linguam)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: #SaveShadowhunters, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e21 Alliance, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, M/M, Missing Scene, Protective Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 16:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguam/pseuds/Bohemian
Summary: Jace, predictably, finds him in his office.-Following the "Simon, turn me into a vampire" scene.





	(Un)even footing

**Author's Note:**

> Devastated, emotionally destroyed, and forever alternating between complete numbness and spite-driven denial (:
> 
> Jace was clearly following Alec when the latter stormed off at the end of this scene. Here is the conversation I imagine could've occurred between them.
> 
> Take care of yourselves, everyone <3

Jace, predictably, finds him in his office.

Alec stands with his back to the door, staring into the unlit fireplace. His spine is a bowstring stretched to within an inch of snapping, his entire posture screaming that he is one unsteady step away from erupting into… something. Even having a front-row seat to every jagged, blistering emotion burning through the bond, Jace can’t tell if Alec is about to start throwing punches or break down crying.

He allows himself one measured breath, trying to find even footing through the maelstrom of sensory input, and closes the door behind him. He wonders if Alec is aware of how fully he’s broadcasting what he’s feeling. Or maybe he just doesn’t care that Jace knows.

More unsettled by the realization than he wants to admit, Jace takes a careful step forward.

“Alec—”

“Don’t,” Alec grits out. His hands are clenched into fists by his sides. Jace can feel the nails digging into his own palms. “I know what you’re gonna say, Jace, and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what I’ll have to do, I’m not leaving him there to face Lilith alone.”

“Hey,” Jace says, palms up at the harsh tone. “No one is saying that we are, but. Alec. It’s _Lilith_ we’re talking about here. We can’t just go in there guns blazing. We need to be smart about this.”

Alec spins around, and even Jace’s barely-existent sense of self-preservation knows not to come any closer when his parabatai has _that_ look in his eyes.

People always assume that Jace is the wildcard, the hothead who always jumps the gun without any thought for the consequences, but those people have never seen Alec in a protective rage.

Add mindless desperation to it and it’s downright terrifying.

“What we need- what _I need,_ is to get to Edom,” Alec snaps. He stalks closer to Jace who, in a commendable feat of self-restraint, stays put. “If this was Clary—”

“I’d be doing exactly what you’re doing,” Jace agrees evenly. “I know. And you’d be telling me to think things through before I rushed headfirst into something that would most likely get me killed.”

“I don’t care what happens to me.”

Jace crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, I do. _Magnus_ does,” he adds, before Alec can start chewing his head off. “He wouldn’t want you to put your life at risk.”

“Right now, I don’t care about what he wants. I care about him not _dying_ because he, once again, sacrificed himself to save our sorry asses.”

Alec’s face scrunches up in a pained frown that gives Jace a headache just from looking at him.

“It keeps happening,” he mutters, lower, but no less agitated. “We’re in trouble and he immediately throws himself on the sword for us. It’s going to get him killed. _I’m_ going to get him killed.”

Jace winces, at the words as much as at the sting of echoing self-resentment.

“Alec, come on. That’s not—”

Alec shakes his head. His hands are trembling.

“I can’t lose him, Jace,” he says, voice wavering. “I _can’t._ ”

“Hey.” Jace places a hand on Alec’s shoulder. The muscles underneath his palm might as well have been carved out of adamas. “ _You won’t._ ”

It’s not an option. If Magnus dies, Jace knows that Alec won’t be far behind, if not physically then definitely mentally and emotionally, and that is not happening. Not on his watch.

He waits for wet hazels to meet his own.

“We’ll get him back, Alec.”

“How?” Alec asks, and Jace swallows as it slices through the bond, how wretched and _lost_ he feels.

“We’ll find a way,” he says. “But you gotta work with me here, man.” He raps his knuckles against Alec’s temple, smirking. “Put that tactician’s brain to some use, or it’ll be up to the rest of us to come up with a plan, and our track record hasn’t really been all that great lately.”

Alec huffs, eyes rolling heavenward. But Jace can read the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth for the success it is, however small.

Alec drags in a deep, mostly even, breath. When he looks back down at Jace, his eyes are hard but slightly less frenzied.

“Nightfall,” he says. “I’m giving it until nightfall. After that, plan or no plan, I’m going in.”

Jace nods.

A few hours to come up with a plan to seal the rift for good and get Magnus out of there while avoiding getting killed or otherwise maimed by Lilith, or his parabatai is going to throw himself headfirst into a suicide mission.

Well, Jace thinks as he follows Alec out of the office. He always did work best under pressure.


End file.
